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<title>The Genius Billionaire Playboy Philanthropist Con by meaninglessblah</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22501279">The Genius Billionaire Playboy Philanthropist Con</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/meaninglessblah/pseuds/meaninglessblah'>meaninglessblah</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU, DCU (Comics)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>False Identity, Gen, Identity Swap</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-02-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-04-28 17:49:44</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>883</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22501279</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/meaninglessblah/pseuds/meaninglessblah</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>When Bruce unexpectedly gets taken out of action, Jason gets called in to fill in for billionaire playboy Brucie Wayne.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>120</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Genius Billionaire Playboy Philanthropist Con</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“You want me to <em> what? </em>” Jason repeats, louder than is probably warranted for a fancy schmancy workplace like Wayne Enterprises. </p><p>Across the obnoxiously broad desk with a neat little plaque reading ‘Acting C.E.O.’, Tim lifts a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose and sucks down another quart of caffeine. “Not want,” he says with severe displeasure, “need.” </p><p>“You need me to be Bruce,” Jason paraphrases, and Tim definitely winces. </p><p>“We, collectively, as a family,” Tim clarifies, and sets his mug down on the nearby coaster so that he can hold Jason’s dumbfounded stare, “need you to fill in for Bruce, yes.” </p><p>Jason whistles low and folds his arms behind his head. There’s something buzzing in his veins, something like anticipation, but more mischievous. “Well, well, well. What prompted all this?” </p><p>Tim adjusts the mug by its handle, aligning it much more neatly on its coaster. “Bane snapping his spine like a glowstick, mostly. Leslie says we’re looking at a three month downtime, possibly a nine month gig before he’s fully recovered. So, we’ll have Bruce back in three months, but Batman won’t be back for another nine.” </p><p>“Sure,” Jason says. </p><p>“Sure,” Tim agrees, and leans back in his chair, taps a fingernail on the mahogany grain. “My point being; we can’t have Bruce Wayne disappear for three months.” </p><p>“Just say he went on vacation.” </p><p>Tim snorts. “Oh yeah, seventeenth one this year. We can’t keep playing that card. Someone’s going to actually start looking into us. I’ve only got two more ‘out of town conference’ cards myself.” </p><p>“So you need <em> me </em> to fill in.” </p><p>Tim nods once. The sprawling expanse of the office makes him look small and tired, and despite the cosy minimalist furnishings, Tim looks haggard. “Dick can be Batman, no one’s contesting that. But we need a fill in for Bruce.” </p><p>“Why can’t Dick be Bruce?” </p><p>Tim’s face makes a complicated movement that Jason interprets as ‘if only that could have been a viable option’. “He’s close, but he’s not tall enough. Not close enough to shirk suspicion anyway. We can doll him up with holographic tech and voice modulators, so the visual is secondary, but it’s going to raise questions if some suit just phases a hand through him while clapping ‘Brucie’ on the shoulder.” </p><p>“Wait,” Jason says, a full-blown grin tugging at his lips. Tim looks like he really wishes he could eject himself from the conversation. He wonders idly if he drew the short straw against the Batbrat to get the job of enlisting Jason. “Are you telling me Dickie is too short to be big bad Bruce Wayne? Because what I’m hearing is that <em> I’m </em> as tall as Bruce.” </p><p>Tim rolls his eyes like this is an argument he’s already weathered. “If you and Dick want to measure each other later, be my guest. But you’re the closest in build to Bruce. The rest we can make do with.” </p><p>Jason smirks. “Sucks being five four, doesn’t it, shortstack?” </p><p>“If I could have had Clark fill in, here’d be here already,” Tim returns, deadpan. </p><p>“Why <em> can’t </em> old uncle Supes do this gig? He’s about the same build, right?” </p><p>Tim pinches his nose again. “Clark’s got other… commitments.” </p><p>“Another intergalactic throwdown? And Superboy is a no-show too?” </p><p>Tim scoffs. “Conner hasn’t peaked over five foot seven since he was sixteen.” </p><p>“I’m beginning to see why he appeals to you.” </p><p>“Shut up,” Tim returns, and straightens in his chair, linking his hands on the desktop. Jason thinks he probably thinks he looks like a professional. “Are you taking the gig or not?” </p><p>“Be Bruce Wayne, eccentric billionaire playboy for three months? Sounds like a blast.” </p><p>“Bruce isn’t eccentric. He’s toned down the ‘playboy’ aspect for a few years running now.” </p><p>“Fatherhood does that to you,” Jason says sagely, and Tim rolls his eyes again. </p><p>“Damian will escort you to any gala events. I’ll walk you through any shareholder meetings and mergers for WE. All you have to do is sit there and look pretty. It’ll be the easiest million you ever made.” </p><p>Jason hums contemplatively, and scrubs his chin for effect. “Only a million?” </p><p>“How much do you want?” Tim asks, caged but resigned. </p><p>“I could use a new bike. And there’s a new long-range missile launcher I’ve had my eye on-” </p><p>“Yes to the bike. No to any weapons. I’ll authorise a suit upgrade if you want one, but that’s as far as you’ll get.” </p><p>“I haven’t heard a please yet,” Jason points out, and Tim scowls, but it’s tired. </p><p>“You’re not getting one. Either you take the job or we start putting out flyers, but I’m not asking again. I’ve debased myself enough for one afternoon.” </p><p>“So it’s just galas and mergers?” </p><p>“A few public events,” Tim affirms. “Just to shake some hands, prove Bruce Wayne is alive and well.” </p><p>“Three months,” Jason repeats. </p><p>“Three months.” </p><p>“Paid in advance.” </p><p>“I’ll message Babs,” Tim agrees, pulling out his cell and thumbing the display open. </p><p>Jason rises to his feet, smiling with all his teeth. “You’ve got a deal, replacement.” </p><p>“<em>You’ve </em> got a charity event at seven, <em> Bruce,</em>” Tim returns without glancing up from his typing. </p><p>“That’s going to get old quickly,” Jason admits. </p><p>Tim fixes him with a thin, sharp smile. “Let’s hope so.” </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Yeah, this can't possibly go wrong. </p><p>I know it's short, but this WIP has been floating around in my drafts for months, so have at it. The next instalment will be along shortly. Stay tuned!</p><p>
<a href="https://linktr.ee/meaninglessblah">

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